Childe of Malkav
by Asirus
Summary: Mirina, the newborn childe of the Malkavian bloodline, has been thrust into the shadowy world of vampire politics in LA. Unknown to the local Kindred, she will be guided by the Web bonding her clan together to shake the very foundations of power in LA.
1. The Game Begins, a Pawn is Moved

_So I was playing Bloodlines a little bit ago, and, as usual, I was running through as Malkavian (mostly because when I play the other clans, everything is so... normal), and I thought, "hey! my malk needs more CHARACTER"_

_Thus, this story was born. I may eventually flesh it out into a full story, but for now it's just a series of snapshots, mostly of my vampire's encounters with the Anarchs (because they make me giggle)._

_For the purposes of this story, I've taken some liberty with the female malkavians appearance and clothing, as well as various dialogue._

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**  
_

* * *

The major players in LA had gathered in the theater. Everyone who was anyone was there. The most powerful players being Therese Voerman, Isaac Abrams, Velvet Velour, Nines Rodriguez and his entourage, Skelter and Damsel. In one of the balconies sat the Tremere regent Maximillian Strauss. Even Jack was there, lurking in the shadows along the edge of the theater with cigarette smoke curling up around him. Various other kindred had put in an appearance, and those who came alone looked bored, while those with company whispered, looking impatient.

Finally, the door at the back of the stage burst open, and two nameless kindred came in, dragging a pair of staked vampires with them. Behind the four came Sebastian LaCroix, Prince of the Camarilla in LA, and his Sheriff.

The two staked kindred were cured rather violently of their paralysis, and in the crowd some of the more squeamish wrinkled their noses at the pained grunt from the male. He knelt, bare chested, next to the Sheriff, his head bowed and his hands bound behind his back. The smug looking vampire behind him gripped his neck as if to thwart any escape, but those watching could see the hopelessness in his posture.

A few feet away, her eyes lowered but her back straight, knelt the other previously staked kindred, hands also bound behind her. She was perfectly silent and looked confused, wary, and a little tired, her blue and white dress stained with blood along the neckline, a jagged tear where the stake had been. Her long dark hair was falling out of the loose tie that bound it, long strands falling around her pale face.

LaCroix began to speak, outlining the supposed crimes of the pair of vampires kneeling on stage, and the group of Anarchs around Rodriguez began muttering to each other. With little ceremony, the Sheriff unsheathed his massive sword and lopped the head off the male vampire. In her seat, Velvet averted her gaze briefly, the Toreador not quite having the stomach for such things. The fledgling flinched visibly as her sire disintegrated, a faint but audible whimper coming from her as a slight breeze scattered her pale skin with his ashes, causing several in the crowd to frown rather severely at LaCroix.

As LaCroix resumed his monologue, the fledgeling swayed slightly in place, her head weaving ever so slightly; suddenly, her gaze lifted, unerringly finding Nines Rodriguez in the darkness where he sat. Nines was vaguely surprised to note that she had one pale green eye, one light amber; she continued to stare for a moment, then bowed her head, her unusual eyes drifting shut as the Prince began to announce his decision regarding her fate.

Without really thinking, Rodriguez jumped to his feet, interrupting the sentencing with an angry shout, his teeth bared as he hissed at the so called prince. Damsel and Skelter both jumped up as well, putting out hands to prevent him from doing something suicidal like rushing the stage. At his exclamation, the theatre erupted in loud murmurs, Isaac and the rest standing to face LaCroix, their faces clearly showing their agreement with the vocal Anarch and their sympathy for the newborn kindred.

After surveying the crowd, perhaps gauging it's mood, the Prince doled out a measured dose of Camarilla mercy, granting the fledgling clemency. At his words, Rodriguez glanced over at the girl, his face not betraying his surprise when he found her once again watching him. He turned and made his way out of the theatre, not really needing to hear the specifics of her probation, Skelter and Damsel falling into step behind him, whispering to each other as they walked.


	2. Bloody Mercury

Mirina walked slowly out of the small, shabby apartment the Prince had arranged as a haven, her two-toned eyes fixed on the ground just before her feet as she moved gracefully towards the street, her blue and white dress still torn and stained with her blood at the collar. She was having trouble concentrating, her mind swimming with the strange image of a shadowy web spanning the globe, gentle tremors twitching the silken strands, sending messages, whispers to those caught in it. It was only the second night since her... transformation. Three days ago, she had been a normal young woman, if a bit odd. Her grandmother had always said she had the sight, but she hadn't really given it much thought before now._ 'Perhaps_,' she considered, _'that is why he chose me. Why he brought me into the night.'_

The fledgling sighed, pausing at the end of the alley leading to the apartments over the pawnshop. She glanced over to the right, smelling something... tantalizing, at the same time as a loud voice started talking about Mercury, broken and bloodied by the sand-devils. After looking around carefully to ensure that the voice wasn't heard by anyone else on the street, she shrugged and moved where it indicated, her eyes flickering briefly over a well-dressed man before fixing on a trail of blood leading into a building from the nearby parking lot. Smiling a little oddly to herself, she opened the door, following the blood as a second voice joined the first, muttering about thin blood and sand, and slaughter over water. The cacophony was difficult for the young vampire to decipher, and she paused before opening the door at the end of the hall, her brow furrowing as she tried to silence the words. _'Too loud!' _she thought, '_Why must you be so loud! Silence, damnable voices, there is work to be done!'_

Apparently undeterred, the voices continued, though the one speaking of Mercury managed to overcome the second voice, making itself heard as she pushed open the door, finding a young looking man lying in a broken heap on the couch, blood seeping from his many wounds and his eyes squeezed shut in a pained grimace. A third, quiet voice, spoke up, briefly silencing all others. _'The man on the couch...'  
_  
Out loud, she asked, "You are the fleet-footed god, bloody Mercury who is to be my guide?"


	3. Sloppy Ambush

He smelled the blood before he heard any voices, the scent heavy on the air, full of power and vaguely familiar. Nines peered around the corner of the building, his eyes immediately drawn to the three.. no, four, figures around the single lamppost in the parking lot. He could clearly see that the three standing were sabbat grunts, their hunched over stance and elongated claws giving them away. On the ground was the fourth figure, not quite visible between their legs. Suddenly, one of them lifted his foot, smashing it down on the crumpled, white-clothed figure, eliciting a pained cry. A distinctly female pained cry.

The guttural voices drifted across the lot as Rodriguez crept out, drawing his gun as he moved. They were saying something about taking it's teeth, among other, less pleasant things. The one on the ground struggled weakly against the foot on her chest, snarling as she gripped the beasts ankle. As the middle figure bent down, his clawed hand trailing along her bare leg, Nines fired, causing the bent sabbat vampire to clutch its heavily bleeding head, swearing as the three turned to see who dared interrupt their little game.

It was an easy task spooking the two lesser vampires, though Nines had to make an example of the third when it rushed back at him, blood still oozing from it's head. As he turned away from the quickly crumbling skeleton, he saw the female dragging herself to her feet, her white dress covered with mud and not a small amount of blood, long dark hair falling loose around her bare shoulders and down her back. As she turned, Nines realized it was the fledgling from LaCroix's little show a few weeks ago. She straightened, her green and gold eyes on him, and the Anarch was surprised to see her wounds already healing. She had strengthened considerably since her sire was killed.

Suddenly, she tilted her head to one side, her eyelids dropping halfway down her two-toned eyes, and she began to sway in place, her right hand hovering next to her temple. The fledgeling was murmuring, and as he approached, he caught the words, "A walk in the park is not so pleasant. It's not Smokey, but only you can stop forest fires. Watch out for it's claws."

Nines raised an eyebrow and she immediately stopped, her full blood-colored lips pressing shut as she clasped her hands in front of her, her delicate features coached into a strangely attentive expression.

"Trouble sure seems to like you... Name's Nines."

She smiled a little oddly, then asked, "What happened to one through eight?" Nines suppressed a flinch, suddenly realizing why she seemed so very strange.

"Same thing that happens to a lot of Anarchs, Malk. But you already know that somehow, don't ya? Should've been more careful, newbie. This ain't the burbs."

Her eyes drifted slightly to the left, focusing on something that was probably not even there, and said, "Whadda ya know... I will let everyone in shouting distance hear."

Nines shook his head, smothering an amused smirk, and said, "You do what you want. Me, I got things to deal with. Why don't you pay me a visit at the Last Round tonight. I don't know what you've heard so far, but it's time you heard the real story."

The malkavian's odd eyes snapped back to him, a surprisingly warm smile on her pale face. "I like stories."

The Anarch shook his head again, turning to leave while saying, "This is a mean existence. Stay out of trouble, kid."

He heard a faint giggle behind him, and glanced back in time to see her moving with an eerie sort of grace in the opposite direction, her face lifted to the sky.


	4. The Play is the Thing

Nines was upstairs, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. It had been a long night. Some sabbat shovel-heads had tried to bust in through the back, scaring some of the local kine. Probably trying to get revenge for the one he had dusted earlier... Just as he was contemplating calling it an early night, he heard Skelter's voice drift up the stairs.

"Well, if it ain't the talk of the town; poster child for Camarilla benevolence. What errand does the prince have you runnin' today, girl?" The Anarch's voice was dripping with disdain, a tone that would have sent any normal kindreds temper soaring.

Rodriguez stifled a smirk, knowing immediately who the man was talking to, and glanced at Damsel who sat in the corner near the stairs, reading some book or another. She apparently didn't care who was downstairs.

He could hear the pout in her voice when she responded, her words a twisted riddle as usual. "The jester plays his little games, and sends this little pawn before him."

The Anarch leader couldn't help but let out a little snort of amusement at the 'prince' being called a jester by a loony malkavian fledgling, and Damsel looked up, an eyebrow raised at his expression. He just shook his head and waved her back to her book. He could hear Jack chuckling, the elder brujah obviously also following the conversation below from his place in the opposite corner from Damsel.

Skelter's voice ran up the stairs, sounding angry and baffled at the same time. "Jester? What? What the hell did you say? Hold on... you're Malkavian, right? Whoa, you're doubly screwed... crazy as hell, and the prince's bitch. Little pawn, you said? Yeah, you got that right. Maybe you're not as crazy as you look."

Her voice floated up, a smile in her voice. "Greetings, Helter Skelter!"

Nines could practically feel Skelter shudder. Everyone got freaked out by malkavians. It was just how it went.

"Huh? How... Damn Malkavians. That shit is creepy. Anyway, yeah, my name is Skelter. I do my part to keep California a Free State for the Anarchs."

Rodriguez stopped paying attention as Skelter started ranting on against the Camarilla. He had heard it all before. Many times.

Suddenly, there was an almost imperceptible change in the air, as if the temperature had dropped by several degrees, and the Anarch leader found his attention again drawn to the conversation at the base of the stairs. A moment of listening and Nines found they were talking about blood, ancient curses, and of course, Caine. The fledgling murmured, "Do you speak of the Dark Father?"

Skelter's voice was low, as if he didn't want to be overheard, when he replied, "Caine, man. Father of all vampires. Killed his brother Abel and was cursed by God to walk eternity feeding on the blood of his children. Some heavy shit, man..."

There was a sharp intake of breath, and a long pause. Suddenly, her voice crept back up the stairs, "The Father, he walks among us. A step behind a smile..."

Nines stared at the stairs, one eyebrow raised. That certainly didn't sound good. In a sudden shift of gears, the malkavians voice again floated up from below, again all honey and sunlight. "I seek he of the numbered name."

Skelter must have pointed the fledgling towards the stairs, as the sound of booted feet could be heard moving up. Suddenly, she floated into view, wearing a clean, lacey white sundress, her feet covered in black leather combat boots. Her waist-length black hair was pulled back from her pale face in a long, thick braid. Where she was getting the pristine white outfits, the Anarch had no idea. Nines was surprised to note that another followed after, a nervous looking Hispanic woman in a yellow coat. The malkavian paused at the top of the stairs, her two-toned eyes drifting around the upper room. They rested on Jack briefly, then skittered over to Nines. As the pair made their way slowly across the floor, the woman following the malkavian closed her eyes tight, her hand snapping out to grab the fledgling's arm. The malkavian turned to her companion, her head tilted to one side.

All three Anarchs in the room found their eyes fixed on the two women as the malkavian started to sway, her head weaving slowly and her eyes shut. The woman in yellow, a thin-blood from the smell of her, whispered, "Mirina...? Why is he smiling? The Father? Is it - Is it the Father behind him?"

Without a pause, the strange fledgling responded, "I see the Dark Father, and the one who stands in front of him." In his corner, Jack shifted his weight, his eyes narrowing slightly on the pair.

"You chased it for the one at the top of the city... on the sea..." The thin-blood's voice started to waver, little gasps interspersing her speech. "Oh, underground... ha... you found it, in the crypt." Suddenly, her voice was fearful, and she shuddered. "Oh, it's open... hoh, it's open... oh god, oh god... _run!_"

The malkavian gave an odd little giggle, her eyes slowly drifting open as she stilled. "Yes. The tomb will light up the night sky!" She paused, then pulled her arm out of her companions grip, watching the trembling thin-blood and saying, "Something plagues the Dam Sail... but we will find the little green man for you first."

The white-clothed malkavian turned, her gaze settling on Nines as she pulled the thin-blood after her. Rodriguez opened his mouth, running on autopilot after the unnerving show put on by the two women, but the malk cut him off. "The White King! I picked this thin little Rose from a patch of sandy brambles. She wants a better plot of dirt, and needs the end of the rainbow to get there."

Nines blinked at her, then shifted his gaze to the thin-blood. "Any chance you can talk straight, or is that too much to hope for?" The Hispanic kindred twisted her hands together, and the malkavian also turned her gaze on the thin-blooded vampire. "My... my name is Rosa. She... found me under the pier, she said you could help me. I need to get out of the city. It's not safe here for those like me."

The Anarch appraised the thin-blood for a moment, his eyes flicking over to the patiently waiting malkavian who stood at her side with her hands clasped before her as if in prayer.

"Yeah... We can do that. Go talk to Skelter, downstairs. He'll get you what you need."

The malkavian clapped her hands together, a pleased smile brightening her face. She turned to the one called Rosa, clasping on of her hands between her pale fingers as she swayed very slightly. "You found the end of the rainbow! Go now, and listen to the man in the picture box, he'll tell you what happens once you've gone." Rosa offered a tentative smile, murmuring, "Thank you, friend. I would not have gotten out in time without you."

Mirina closed her eyes briefly, going still. Opening her eyes slowly, she smiled again and whispered, "Good luck, Rosa."

With that, the thin-blood nodded and moved back down the stairs, the sound of a murmured conversation just barely audible as she talked to Skelter.

After she had gone, Nines turned his attention back to the malkavian, absently noting that Damsel had gone back to her book, but Jack was still watching the fledgling.

"So. Your name is Mirina, is it?" The girl lifted her gaze back to Nines, nodding. "That's what the voices tell me."

...

Mirina stared up at the imposing Anarch leader, the voices that had plagued her in the few weeks since her ill-fated date with destiny dropping down to hushed, infrequent whispers as long as she looked at his eyes. _Startlingly blue_, she thought. He was talking, something about kindred politics. But she knew all that already, the voices, hated, trusted, despised but always right, had already told her everything he was saying. More or less. He paused, frowning, and Mirina nodded, murmuring, "Nearly silent in the sky, I wonder how you hush them so."

He just raised an eyebrow, and she sighed inwardly. Ever since her embrace, she had trouble making people understand her. She knew she was saying exactly what she meant, what the voices told her, what she could _see_... But the poetry that flowed from her lips seemed to confuse, rather then enlighten. Oh well, maybe one day she could make them understand. The elder vampire shrugged, then showed her a few hand to hand moves. _Those will come in handy_, whispered a voice, just to her left. The young malkavian smiled at him when he was done his instruction, and he blinked, his blue eyes searching her face for something. The voices were silent as to what he was looking for, instead murmuring on and on about the red-headed Anarch somewhere behind her, speaking of sickness and plague. She didn't want to move, pleased with the subdued tone of the voices, but she knew she couldn't stand there forever.

...

Nines watched with a slight, puzzled frown on his face as the slender malkavian turned, her eyes fixing immediately on Damsel who looked up in surprise as the fledgling approached.

"Ahh! It is the Dam Sail of Distress! Something is plaguing you." Nines didn't even bother wondering how she knew his second-in-command's name, or how she knew about the plaguebearer already, his attention being drawn to Jack, who had wandered over. The grizzled vampire grinned at Nines, his voice low and his eyes flickering over to the white-clad malk and an increasingly disturbed looking Damsel. "Interesting kid, eh Nines?"

Without waiting for a response, the sometimes-anarch asked, "What do you make of that 'dark father' business with the thin-blood?" Rodriguez shook his head, his eyes also drawn to the strange new kindred in their midst. "I dunno. Doesn't sound good, whatever it is. Don't know how accurate her... insight is though. Could be nothing..."

Jack regarded Nines briefly, then grinned, "Well, we can always hope she's full of crap, eh?" He trailed off, narrowing his eyes at the young kindred as she drifted away from Damsel towards the two gossiping elder vampires, leaving the red-head staring after her with a bemused sort of look on her face. "I dunno though. Seems pretty spot on with most of what I've heard so far."

Nines nodded, then shot the bearded kindred a wry grin. "Looks like it's your turn to decipher some riddles. Good luck, I think I'm going to call it a night." Jack snickered as Nines moved away, watching the malkavian approach with a dreamy expression on her face. "Yeah, well, I did tell her to drop by if she made it out of Santa Monica..."

Nines paused, glancing over his shoulder, "You met her before?" Jack nodded.

"Yeah. Just after the 'trial'. I'll tell you about it later if you're curious." Rodriguez nodded, then left the two to their reunion, a quiet, vaguely amused feminine voice murmuring, "Smiling Jack!"


	5. Quoth the Raven, Nevermore

Beckett was talking, speaking about the history of the sarcophagus and the meaning behind Lamastu. Mirina, the fledgling, did not appear to be listening, her large two-toned eyes drifting languidly around the room as she stood on the opposite side of the sarcophagus from the scholar. Suddenly, her eyes snapped down to the box, and she almost lovingly placed her palms flat against it, draping herself over it's lid, her ear pressed against it's surface and her eyes sliding closed.

The scholar paused briefly in his discourse, but continued on, his blood red eyes now fixed on the malkavian, instead of the elaborate carvings on the sarcophagus. Beckett stopped briefly to take a breath, and suddenly the childe snapped her head up, leaning forward and whispering with a wide grin, "Wolf! There is a secret in the box. Box, box?... Jack-in-the-box. I can hear its music go!" She pushed herself back, drawing the attention of both the prince and his sheriff, and closed her eyes, swaying erratically with her fingers wiggling in the air near her temples.

Beckett opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly she lifted her arms in the air, an unnerving laugh bubbling between her ruby lips. "I go to purge the black hand from angel land. But then the key. Key! Pillar of flame to light up the sky!"

Lacroix and Beckett exchanged a glance, both slightly unsettled by the malkavian, and the prince took a step forward, perhaps to interrupt the girl, but again, she proved faster then thought. Her hands dropped slightly, fists clenched loosely next to her head, which was tilted at a sharp angle as her unusual eyes skipped from Beckett to Lacroix.

Swaying slightly, she murmured, "My little raven has been taken, when she dies I'll fry those guys." She pouted slightly, then straightened, blinking a few times. Without warning, she spun in an odd little dance, moving into the elevator. As the doors closed, she grinned wickedly and gave a little wave to the three in the room, her eyes drifting shut as she began to sway.


	6. Surprising Power

**_Warning for language in this one. Damsel has some dialogue, so it's sort of a given._**

* * *

Mirina stalked into the Last Round, her booted feet silent on the wooden floor and her lacy white dress swirling around her legs, blood staining the hem. Her pale skin was spattered with blackish blood and flecked with ash, and her hair, normally bound back in a long braid, was loose and flowing down her back, the cord she fastened it with long gone. Moving with predatory grace, she moved quickly past a startled Skelter up the stairs, ignoring him as he tried to stop her. She had places to be.

Reaching the top floor seconds before Skelter, the malkavian paused, her eyes listening to the urging voices as she fixed on the red-headed Damsel, who looked up in surprise as the fledgling darted towards her.

..

Damsel blinked as the malkavian moved with unexpected speed across the room, her slender hands curling around the Anarch's forearms as Jack muttered a curse from his corner and Skelter ran up the stairs behind the white-clothed vampire. Before anyone could react, the malk gave Damsel a little shake, her unusual two-toned eyes wide as she stared up at the taller woman, her blood-red lips spilling nonsense into the upper room of the bar.

"Tell me, where did you hide the sky? I need to find the Numbered Name, to tell him the Jester's false words. It's not safe where he is." Damsel blinked again, her face twisting into a scowl as she tried unsuccessfully to pry the young kindred's hands from her arms. She was surprised at the fledglings strength, and suddenly Jack and Skelter, who had been approaching, stopped in their tracks, power rolling off the malkavian in waves as she gave the Anarch another little shake.

Finally composing her thoughts enough to respond, Damsel frowned at the malkavian and snapped, "Whoa, hands off Cammy. You want to find Nines, you're going to have to give me a better fucking reason then because you said so."

The slender kindred inhaled sharply, her hands dropping to her sides and her head tilting to one side, her expression calming slightly; ignoring the power still clouding the air around the youngest vampire, Skelter moved forward to stand next to Damsel while Jack leaned against a nearby table, a curious expression on his bearded face.

Finally, the malkavian swayed slightly, her eyes shifting from Damsel to Jack, then back again. Her voice was low, and she spoke slowly, perhaps hoping they would understand better that way, "The Jester made a pact with the Queen of China. Used her power over the little bits to make the White King into a guilty picture, but he was not who he said she was when she turned the mad bishop to ash. Then the Black Jester King betrayed his Queen, and sends this little pawn to find the White King, bringing false words of friendship with me."

The three Anarchs blinked, exchanging puzzled glances as the malkavian clasped her hands together, her face calm as she waited for a response. Jack spoke up, asking, "Ok, so, if I'm puzzling this out right, LaCroix made some deal with the Kuei-Jin, and... they're shape-shifters? They framed Nines for the Malkavian primogen's death, then he sold out them out. Now he wants you to find Nines for, what, an alliance?"

Mirina smiled and nodded. "Yes, but his tongue is forked, the old serpent, and he cannot be trusted. The game draws to a close, and the White King must be on the board, or forfeit the match."

Damsel glanced at Skelter, who shrugged, then shared a look with Jack. The older vampire nodded, his eyes moving back to the patiently waiting malkavian.

Finally, Damsel spoke up, "Ugh, fine. He's in the park." Jack interrupted, "Griffith Park, you'll have to hurry if you want to get there and back before the sun comes up."

The malkavian began to sway again, her head tilted sharply to one side and her hands lifting to hover next to her temples. She stared at Damsel and Skelter and said in a whisper, "You must wait below the cliff, your King will need help after the teeth and claws take him over the edge." Turning her attention to Jack without waiting for a response, she murmured, "And I will need a ride come the dawn."

With that, she turned gracefully on her heel with a swirl of her bloodstained dress and darted downstairs. The three exchanged glances, and Jack shrugged with a wide grin. "Ah, Malkavians. Fun aren't they? You two better get moving while I go steal a car."


	7. Full of Sound and Fury

Nines sat on the edge of the observatory, his blue eyes watching the distant tram slowly make its way up to the little station not far away. He couldn't see inside it from this distance, but for some reason he was sure there was someone inside it. His eyes flickered to the dark and silent forest, frowning as the thought of fire and claws briefly flashed through his mind. He shook his head, dismissing the strange thought, and jumped down to the grass below, moving closer to the tram station.

As it got closer, he saw a slender, white-clothed figure through the large windows, and was immediately fixed on the idea that it was the strange malkavian fledgling, Mirina, come calling. He leaned back against a small tree not far from the station, watching as the tram docked in the enclosed building. Listening carefully, he could just make out the faint sound of footsteps, and suddenly the door burst outward, and the slender malkavian drifted out, her head tilted slightly to the side and her eyes on the trees as the faint night breeze caught her long, loose hair. Her dress was stained with blood and ash, and even from this distance he could feel the strange aura she was projecting, coloring the air around her with madness and power.

Without warning, her head snapped towards him, and Nines could swear he saw her eyes glowing eerily in the cool night air from fifty feet away, a distraught look on her delicate features. She turned and sprinted with unnatural and unexpected speed up the small hill, surprising the Anarch when she reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt, her two-tone eyes wide and slightly unfocused. Staggering back slightly from the impact of the smaller vampire, Rodriguez lifted his hands to steady the shaking malkavian, blinking in shock at her unusually odd behaviour, opening his mouth to find out what the hell the problem was. Slumping slightly, she finally lifted her head to meet his eyes, her ruby lips spilling out words that tumbled over each other in their haste to escape.

"Nines? Nines! They took my little raven! They took her from our nest and put their horrible black hands all over her perfect dark feathers she put on just for me, and tore her apart in front of me, and she screamed for me but I couldn't reach her in time!" Mirina gasped for unnecessary breath, the horror in her multi-hued eyes shifting to something calmer, something darker as she straightened her posture, her delicate looking hands still in a death grip on his shirt. The Anarch leader blinked at the onslaught of words, vaguely concerned by the shadow in her eyes as he carefully pried her hands from his shirt, clasping them together between his own as he tried to calm her down as she continued to spill words into the night air.

Her voice low and cold and filled with dark glee, she continued, "And then I rent them, tore them to bitty _screaming_ pieces and set the pieces on_ fire_. And then I waded through their blood, to the depths of their twisted building, ripping and tearing as I went, until I found their leader. I pulled the spikes from his crested skull until he screamed for me to stop, to join him, and I set the voices upon him, and let the darkness take his sight, and pulled his crafty hands from his arms and set them alight as well. And when I was done, they and he were Nevermore."

Shaking his head, Nines was sure he only understood about half of what she'd just said, and watched with a vague sense of unease as her gaze clouded over, dropping slowly to their still joined hands. "Whoa whoa whoa, calm down kid. What little raven? What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

The malkavian blinked, her gaze drifting back up to meet him. "I found the sky. Nevermore, said my raven, she was taken, now she's dead." She shook her head, blinking a few times as if to clear her mind as Nines frowned, trying to decipher her words. "The Dam Sail told me to take a walk in the park, and Smiling Jack said to find the bird headed lion. The Jester sent me too, said to make you his accomplice since he betrayed his Black Queen, and was betrayed by her in turn." She shuddered, her eyes going wide and her face twisting into a pained grimace.

Shaking her hands slightly, Nines stared at her. "What? What's the matter? Mirina? Talk to me? Who's the black queen?"

"Queen of China, she says pretty words but they are false, pretends to be friends, but I don't want to sleep with fish." The malkavian gasped, fixing her gaze on his eyes as she whispered, "Don't trust the Black King, his tongue is forked and the voices whisper, always whispering, call him old serpent, the deceiver, Prince of Lies. He is not to be trusted. But the rebels, they have a cause! They need a leader, now, more then ever, before this little pawn finishes the game. I'll sweep the board and set the sky on fire!"

Nines stared at the slender shivering kindred before him, seriously unnerved by her words as the sound of machinery kicked up behind her. He found his eyes drawn unwillingly to the trees in the distance, his senses, carefully honed over several decades of unlife, telling him something was horribly wrong.

"Come on, kid, we need to get out of here. Something's not right." He turned towards the tram station, frowning as he saw the vehicle pulling out, and pulled her by the hand towards the building. She allowed herself to be led, but suddenly jerked to a stop, her fingers curling like a vice around his wrist. Nines turned to look at her, increasingly alarmed as the smell of fire drifted on the night breeze from the forest. The girl lifted her free had to her temple, her eyes clenched shut. "No no no no no! Oh god, they're coming, teeth and claws and fury! I told you the walk in the park wasn't pleasant! It's not Smokey, oh god oh god. Run!" Surprised by the diminutive fledgling as she darted back the way they came, her fingers still curled around his wrist, Nines was surprised by her strength as she pulled him in a sprint towards the observatory.

His blue eyes widened in shock when the large, white werewolf leaped down from the roof of the building, tearing the two vampires apart and carrying the startled Anarch over the cliff's edge with a yell.

...

Mirina watched in horror as the werewolf took her favorite Anarch over the edge of the cliff, glad to hear his surprised yell since it meant he was still, so far, alive. A whisper behind her, and she whipped around in time to see a second werewolf creep out of the forest, his feral gaze settling on the slender kindred. Following the tugging of the Web, the fledgling darted with preternatural speed into the observatory, unerringly finding the exit on the opposite side where the small generator was housed. Flipping the switch and ignoring the slavering howls that seemed to always be a few paces behind her, she spun in a blur of white and red and moved back into the building, her eyes hard as she made her way into telescope room. Leaping gracefully up onto the small platform, she flicked another switch, opening the large, curved wall, and waited, still as a statue.

She didn't have to wait long, the large grey werewolf quickly clawing his way up to the outer platform, drool dripping from his maw as the creature stalked forward. Mirina stared at it, her hand resting on the switch, and stood her ground, leaning back against the monitors. It went to shimmy through the narrow opening, and, with a vicious smirk, she hit the switch a second time, causing the wall to swiftly grind closed on the beast. Without waiting to watch the creature die with a series of pained yelps and whimpers, the malkavian dropped off the platform and sprinted to the tram, gaining the vehicle just seconds before it pulled out again.


	8. The Father

Mirina, the malkavian fledgling who had brought the city to a boil, sat in the back of the cab, her hands fisted beside her bowed head as she swayed in place, muttering under her breath. The driver watched her calmly from the front seat, waiting for the fledgling to be ready to speak. Suddenly, her head snapped up, hands falling into her lap and her two-toned eyes wide as she began to wail.

"Stop stop stop, stop stop! STOP STOP... no go faster, drive until the lights blur!" Without warning, she stilled, her eyes sliding over to the driver and her blood-red lips dropping open slightly as if in surprise.

"Father, what does my blood say? Where does it lead me?"

The driver smiled in the rear-view mirror and began to speak, to outline her many options, his lightly accented voice soothing the unsettled childe in the back seat.


End file.
